Rhiney met him at The Mall. It was the first time she went there with just her brother Dez. They had been dumped at their grandmother’s house and their ma’s doing her big-bang exit, one of her super explosions, the kind only she and Rue can pull off.  Nonna had yelled back for a while but then Nonna’d started crying and it became clear that Ma was gonna win. Rhiney wasn’t sure what that would mean, but their mother was gonna walk, that much she understood. 

Rhiney could just see the quivering yellow of Nonna’s big boobs under her housecoat. There was her ma in her boots and glove-fitting jeans, her leather jacket and frosted hair – Rhiney knew her mother was cool. But it was depressing to watch them fight like this again. Couldn’t they just love each other like families on TV Land? Nonna wasn’t cool, not like TV grandmothers. She was fat and old and gray and carried that silly little poodle dog on her shoulder all the time. When they were little the twins had thought the dog was cute, but now it was old, with white whiskers and really bad breath. Rue said it was gross; that Noona ought to have it put down because it made her grandkids wanna puke and grandkids were more important than dogs. Rhiney didn’t say anything against what Rue said, but the poodle didn’t really make Rhiney wanna puke. The way Nonna clung to that dog, whose name was Cookie, reminded Rhiney of Dez when he was little and he wouldn’t let anyone throw away that dirty pink penguin he’d had practically since the day he was born. The penguin’s name was Floyd. Sometimes Rhiney wondered what had happened to that penguin but she didn’t ask. She was afraid even Dez wouldn’t remember the penguin, wouldn’t even remember its name. Rue sure wouldn’t.

Rhiney felt irrevocably linked to that penguin and to her depressing, colorless grandmother. Rue was like their ma, fiery and sure of herself, always exploding and exiting and making people take notice. When Nonna tried to tell Ma to give up her young stud boyfriend, that he was just taking her money and making her forget her responsibility to her own kids, Rhiney felt a glimmer of hope, such logic always worked for TV families but at the same time she had known in her deepest self that it wouldn’t work in hers. First Ma just looked bored and stared at some spot on Nonna’s ceiling, and when Nonna faulted her for not being there for Rue, for having driven Rue away, then Ma exploded big time and they’d just gone at one another again. 

“If you’d of done this…I’d d never of done that…if you didn’t think you were something so damned special…like you shit ice cream….you’re just jealous, you ole hag…”

Rhiney couldn’t tell which one of them was yelling if she didn’t concentrate and what was the point. If she turned away and watched television with Dez, their voices blurred into one another. Mother and daughter had the same pitch, the same demeanor, the same self-righteousness becoming frustration becoming recrimination. They seemed to grow out of one another, to get louder and crueler because of the other’s loudness and cruelty. Neither ever said sorry. Sometimes she’d hear her sister’s name – Rue – like it was a lost jewel they were talking about. Whenever she heard her sister’s name, Rhiney held her breath. She continued staring straight ahead but did not see the television. The Huxtables just blurred into one another and the laugh track cackled harshly as Rhiney yearned toward the combatants in the kitchen. Passionate, inarticulate, unspeakably wretched, she listened for some word of Rue, for some insight into all the upheaval and fragmentation that had suddenly become her life. Always there had been her erupting, sweet-sweet-smelling mother. Always there had been Rue, yelling back, just as passionate, wild, working out the rough edges with their ma, breaking into the absorptions their mother inevitably formed with her boyfriends, yelling and protecting while Rhiney waited, holding Dez’s hand. Now they were both gone. Rue to her baby and her boyfriend’s family. Ma, too. And there was just Nonna, a fat, worn-out non-person who nobody would ever put on any TV show. A throw-away person, like Rhiney, only older.

“Let’s get outta here,” Dez hissed abruptly, unexpectedly, a savior where Rhiney had expected none. Little Dezzy was suddenly big. Hard. Angry. Male. It occurred to his sister that he was better able to handle things than she was. Tougher, maybe. Smarter, too. A guy.

“Where’ll we go?” She asked, almost unable to hear herself through her mother’s bellows and her grandmother’s half-wailing responses. Accusations and recriminations. No one saying sorry or let’s just stop this, like they tried to teach you to do in school. No one in Rhiney’s family ever hugged or made up. Theo Huxtable and his friend Cockroach were trying desperately to con his parents into some crazy scheme. Claire and Cliff were benignly, serenely unaffected. The laugh track loved it.  Rhiney was confused and anxious, a little panicky.

Why would Dez offer to take her?

“To The Mall. You comin’ or not?”

It was a brusque and dispassionate proposal. A lifebuoy tossed perfunctorily as the reluctant hero turned away, refusing to be tempted or delayed by the dialectics of the thing, refusing to cajole or convince. Gruff and peremptory. Desmond was intent on survival, seemingly unconcerned with the impracticality of abandoning ship, certainly unwilling to acknowledge the desperateness of the seas. 

“Yeah.” So she left the noise and squalor of her grandmother’s flat for the garishness of the neon-lit Mall. In front of Spenser’s Gifts, Dez was suddenly scowling, intent on studying a display of giant vibrating wands but maybe thinking of something else. The girl on the package held the wand against her calf muscle but Rue had told her what they were really for. Over the intercom, the Elmo and Patsy were singing…She’d been drinking too much eggnog, And we begged her not to go, but she forgot her medication and … when suddenly Dez was taking off. He thought he knew where he’d find a guy he knew from the neighborhood. How could a fourteen-year-old know so many guys?

‘Meetcha in the game room later,” he’d offered vaguely and she had turned her plaintive,  yearning eyes to him: Don’t leave me. Take care of me.  For a millisecond he had entertained her message before a defiant glaze crept over his eyes like fog.

Don’t leave me, she’d pleaded silently to his retreating back, but, like Rue, he did.

Rue.

Rhiney’s grief was bottomless and everywhere like air and breath.

Angel Machado and his friend had seen her outside the window of The Limited. Wishing she could think about the clothes, she had been thinking about the baby, a little unborn baby whose hold on Rue was so absolutely more secure than her own. 

She’d let me die, Rhiney thought, seeing layettes march across the window in a single reflective dimension between herself and the headless mannikins in their Christmas plaids. She’d never let you die, little baby. 

“I wanna have his baby.” 

That’s what she’d told her sister. It had sounded so brave and romantic. So much more, a million, trillion times braver than Rhiney would ever be. Surer. More grown-up. How come she knew she wanted to have his baby? Now Rhiney was alone, moving aimlessly, from The Limited to Urban Outfitters, without money to buy anything, without Rue to show her it didn’t matter.

“Hey, little girl, you gonna buy an outfit to go down under,” asked a husky voice close to her ear.

Two guys were standing there She saw their reflections in the glass beside her own. Rhiney had no idea what he had said, but she felt the dim lure of attraction. 

“Come on, Mash, let’s go.” The other guy couldn’t be bothered. She saw that right away. To him, she was invisible, like she was to everyone. She watched them work it out in the windowpane, a one-dimensional drama that replaced the layettes and only remotely concerned her, though she felt a thickly muffled stirring of interest. What’s this? She wondered vaguely without forming any more distinct thought. Essentially she agreed with the notion of her own discardablity, but somewhere deep within a stubborn if battered resistance bleat weakly, not quite allowing her to accept this stranger’s knowing ahead of time – without her having yet even opened her mouth – that she was a loser, that others a million times more significant than his friend had already rejected her today.

“Somethin’ to do,” the cuter one told him. “Whassa matter? You afraid I’ll score?” he taunted as he flashed Rhiney his big, even smile. Matt Damon smile! She failed to actually hear him because his smile compelled her. She was startled by the unexpected power of it, by its warmth, by the feeling that it was so utterly for her. A gift. For her? Does this mean he likes me?

Somehow his friend evaporated and Rhiney was walking the concourse with the guy, looking into windows, listening to his steady stream of chatter, letting him seduce her into laughter. The puffy whiteness disappeared from her face. She saw herself in the narrow mirrors on the pillars between the stores. High color appeared in her cheeks as he babbled on, low and funny and talking just to her. She never noticed how much the change made her look like Rue, but eventually, she felt hot in the face, felt herself beaming with relief. She felt high with the sudden buoyancy of unexpected emotion. Enjoyment. This was fun. 

“Come on, little girl.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a door that read Emergency Exit. Rhiney forgot for a moment and hesitated out of habit, turning to tell Rue where she’d be. Abruptly, painfully, she remembered. No one was waiting on her. Rue had left her. Gone. Gotten herself pregnant and dumped her.

Rhiney felt flushed and daring. This guy was cute and he was with her. She’d never been in the stairwell outside The Mall. There was a long hall with everything painted pale gray, very clean, without graffiti. Their footsteps echoed weirdly and Rhiney felt the thrill of their secret escape.

“Where are we?” she asked excitedly. It was the first time she had spoken.

“Mega! She like speaks!” He howled, pulling her to him. “I thought all you could do was smile, little girl,” he whispered, his face so close.

She could feel his breath. Rhiney liked the way he braced her against him like maybe she could lean on him for a while. He lifted her off her feet, pivoting her against his groin, but she didn’t let herself notice. Basking in his smile, his warm attention, she knew he was going to hug her. Hug her. It was such an appealing idea. She craved it like food. Hugs are good for stress.  Rue had told her that once.

“Hey, look!” He half-whispered, but he loosened his hold while not quite letting her go. He’d spotted something on the lower stairs – a brown leather purse, just sitting there, abandoned.

Rhiney felt a rush of pleasure. Some girl would be really relieved they’d found her purse.

“We’re in luck, little girl!” Angel hooted his pleasure, drawing her into his conspiracy. “How much? Ya wanna guess?” He lunged for the purse, dragging Rhiney by the hand. Her face ached from the smiling. Yeah, we can take the money, she thought. It had not occurred to her but it certainly seemed like a fabulous idea. She’s never got money now. Not from Nonna. Rue’d always been the one to get them money.

“Quick, once for luck,” Angel’s eyes were shiny with excitement. Rhiney didn’t understand what he wanted, just that she was the reason for that bright face. She, Rhiney Colangelo, the dumb, quiet twin, and that shit-brown purse he clutched in his other hand.

“Just once, honey, for luck,” he repeated. She stared at him dumbly and he laughed. “Come on, girl. You know I gotta have ya,” he told her sweetly in a low husky voice. His arm was around her again and he wasn’t asking really. He lifted her easily off the ground, leading with his hips. “I wantcha bad…for luck, little girl, just once, for luck.”  

Her shoulders were against the wall, his groin pressed hard against her pubic bone when she bought of it…does he want…? But her questions were silent and in slow motion and he smelled so good. She wanted him hugging her again. This time hard, with both arms.

He was moving frantically. She felt his cock getting bigger, but it seemed more persistent than enormous; he’d pushed her skirt up around her waist. 

“Hug me,” she ventured tentatively.

“What? What’s ya say, little girl?” he pressed, undressing a rag dog, seemingly surprised she was capable of speech. 

“Hug me,” she repeated more forcefully, almost an order.

“Honey, I’m gonna fuck you,” he growled, impassioned by what he perceived as her assent. He even dropped the purse, their prize. He knew it was empty, but she wasn’t going to be. “Help me with these tights, girl, help me…” His hands fumbled with the cloth stretched across her ass.

“Hug me,” she whimpered, her arms going around his neck. Angel was wild with his good fortune. He laughed out loud. Where had he found this little nugget?

“I’m gonna fuck you and fuck…you…” he told her, ripping at her tights. He lifted her off her feet while she clung doggedly to his neck. Shit, she was so light….empty bones… “I’ll fill you up, little girl….” He mumbled as she dropped her body to the stairs. He had the tights down but the angle was still not right. He couldn’t get in with her l legs locked so tight by the pantyhose. How could he get them off? She was still clinging, not whimpering or moaning or anything, just hanging on, letting him. He fell on top of her, her smallness between him and the stairs, and with one hand he pulled them to her knees. Shit, she was so small, all over small. Don’t wanna break her, he thought, shoving himself in. And she never said no,  never howled, just clung to his neck as he found his way. Hot damn, she’s such a tight little girl. 

Rhiney just kept clinging until he was through. She didn’t care that he was having sex with her. It didn’t hurt except where the stair treads pressed into the back of her head and spine. She knew you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. That boyfriend her mother had had when she was twelve had taught her that. He’d made her quiet with his hand over her mouth. “Be quiet or I’ll hurt Rue,” he’d said, and then Rue woke up and beat him with a coat hanger and told their mother. You couldn’t stop them because they were so strong, even if it hurt, but Angel did not hurt. At least this was her thing; she was doing what she wanted. That was important. Rhiney liked it when he hugged her, he felt so good and she wanted him to like her.  You couldn’t keep a guy unless you let him.  Rue and their friends talk about that. Next time she’d wear knee socks so it’d be easier. There was a lot of wet stuff between her legs and nothing to wipe it up with. 

He was cursing now, but not really angry. There was no money in the wallet.

“Shoulda known,” he scoffed good-naturedly and threw it down the stairwell. “But you’re my good luck, little girl,” he told her and smiled again. “Let’s get outta here before we catch it for being in the same place with that empty purse.”

Rhiney felt warmed again by his protectiveness. She pulled her tights back up quickly and took his outstretched hand.

“Let’s go find my man. What say your name was? Princess Bride? Jewel of the Nile? That’s it! Jewel! Am I right?”

That made her smile again and she forgot the uncomfortable wetness, the bruise on the back of her head. He had big hands like his big, open-faced smile, dark eyes and hair shiny and brown like chocolate fudge. She felt anchored and safe holding his hand.

Wait’ll I tell Rue, she thought but it took her joy away to think of Rue so she didn’t and instead wondered if Angel would want to do it again. Angel made her forget to miss Rue, made her forget to remember she did not know when she would next see Rue.

But then they were back in The Mall with Angel’s friend heading to the Game Room; it was over and Rue was still gone.